Hi, 

Etchohuaquila. (2024, October 23). In Wikipedia. 

I was eight when my family and I turned into the main dirt road of a tiny, dusty town called Etchohuaquila in Navojoa, Sonora, Mexico. It was the early 80s, the height of Fernandomania, and my dad, a carpenter and builder, wanted to see the house the great Fernando Valenzuela built for his mother. A nice man approached us and pointed to the modest (by LA mansion standards) brick home we had almost passed up. There, he said, was where Fernando’s family lived. He told us his mother, who still preferred to cook over firewood, did it outside so the smoke wouldn’t mess up the home’s interior. He walked beside us as we rolled along in our little camper and showed us the field where Fernando played baseball as a kid. It was indistinguishable from the dry, yellow dirt around us except for a few tree stumps marking some boundaries. We were the only visitors and my brothers and I peered out of the camper windows at the dirt field. We were little, but that patch of land felt sacred. Especially since our dad, usually a straight-shot driver, had gone out of his way to bring us here amid our yearly Mexico family visits.  

My daughter on Fernando Valenzuela bobblehead night.

Listen, I knew Fernando was sick. I knew he was in the hospital. I assumed he would go home to recuperate from whatever had sent him there (liver cancer, I learned). I know death comes for everyone in whichever way it wants to. Still, I am heartbroken that Fernando 'El Toro Valenzuela,' Number 34 — of course my boy’s number — is dead. He was only 63. Too young and too significant a presence in the lives of Mexicans and Mexican-Americans in Los Angeles. Waiting for him at the end of the games to have him sign our baseballs or even just wave at us was a ritual we never tired of. To the very end, a Fernando sighting was something special. Seeing our parents, fathers, uncles, and cousins so proud of him instilled pride in us too. With each perfect pitch, we felt vindicated as people who deserved respect for working hard for team Los Angeles, all across the city, in some of its toughest jobs. When he won, we all won. That was Fernandomania. Fernandomania was also a time when a family could afford the cheap seats and enjoy them. A bag of peanuts cost peanuts, and the beer and cheers flowed (almost) freely. If even that was too costly, all you had to do was turn on free, local TV and gather around.  

And you know what else? With Fernando, we all got along. Even us Mexicans! As LA Times columnist and KCRW contributor Gustavo Arellano likes to say, “Nobody hates a Mexican like another Mexican!” Except, I don’t think that applied around Fernando. Who would act a fool in front of a legend? 

Que en paz decanse 💔,

Connie Alvarez
Your KCRW Insider 

P.S. Get Gustavo's take on Fernandomania (12-minute listen). 

A Philosophical and Sensual Exploration of Sound, Taste, and Touch

If any of you out there lost your taste (and smell) as a result of getting COVID, you probably understand how important taste is to our everyday experience. Carolyn Korsmeyer, author of Making Sense of Taste; Food and Philosophy, says "Taste deserves greater respect and attention." She also talks about the evocative nature of the human touch. Do you recall that hug you absolutely needed? How about when our furry friends cuddle up against us? Plus, we're learning more and more about how animals use sound and vibrations to communicate with each other. It's not just sound that comes through our ears, either. It resonates through our entire bodies. Life Examined explores the senses that often come second, third, and fourth to sight.

The Rise and Fall of the GTOs

By 1969, Pamela Des Barres was no longer a Valley teenybopper; she had transformed into a rock icon-in-the-making. Her freaky clique of Laurel Canyon sprites was ordained by Frank Zappa to become the world’s first all-girl band of all-girl groupies, the GTOs. Soon, the GTOs had the likes of the Flying Burrito Brothers, The Who, and Led Zeppelin taking notice, just as Rolling Stone dedicated an entire issue to the groupie phenomenon and made the GTOs its centerfold. But it wasn't all perfect in post-Manson Family LA. 

At Intuit Dome, Your Face Is Your Ticket and Credit Card

Intuit Dome is fancy, and with it comes fancy tech. Its official app — which is required to get inside — links a digital ticket to a user's name, phone number, email address, and zip code. People can also add a credit card, and opt into the venue's facial recognition cameras by uploading a photo. The cameras will allow you to walk right into the stadium without scanning a ticket (you may get a personal greeting), and since concession stands don’t have cashiers, cameras will record what you take and charge you accordingly. It's nifty, but is this the fan experience we're looking for? Winston now loves... Intuit Dome. 

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Climate change can be a serious topic, but it doesn't mean that we need to only talk about it in serious terms — movies, memes, and TV are all doom and gloom! Sam chats with author and marine biologist Dr. Ayana Elizabeth Johnson to explore her inspiring new book, What If We Get It Right?: Visions of Climate Futures. Dr. Ayana says climate change issues can be talked about in a more positive way, but "we can get that stuff green-lit because the executives in Hollywood don't see climate as a big enough problem or as pervasive in pop culture, and... they (execs) won't get it until the news gets it right." 

Get Tickets to Masquerade!

Attention KCRW Members! This Friday, KCRW is throwing our big Halloween dance party at The Mayan, and we want to hook you up with a pair of tickets! Do you want to dance the night away to DJ sets from Remi Wolf and Say She She & KCRW DJs Novena Carmel, SiLVA, and Travis Holcombe? Do you think you can win the costume contest? The first five members to reply with their favorite Halloween tradition will receive two tickets to Masquerade. Not a KCRW member? Become one today so you never miss another opportunity like this.

Final days — donate by Friday to be automatically entered to win!